The Recruit
by Agent California of PF
Summary: Everyone has to go through weeks of training until they can be a Freelancer, but not everyone who trains for it gets accepted. Private Baldum wants more then anything to be a Freelancer. And she'll do anything to become one. Sucky summary, I know, but this is my first story, so give it a shot, tell me what you think! Rated M just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything here except for my character.**

**Enjoy!**

I laid back in my bunk staring up at the cracked white ceiling casually listening to the bickering of my three other bunk-mates, whose names I could not recall for the life of me even though we've known each other for a week now, as they discussed the events of the day. What is my name you ask? Well, my name doesn't matter right now, I'm actually hoping to get my new name soon if I work hard enough.

You see I'm a brand-spanking-new recruit of this operation called "_Project Freelancer_" and I'm currently in training to become one of said Freelancers, but of course not everyone who trains to be one actually gets the privilege to become one. You could be put in as a guard for the ship "_Mother of Invention_" if you don't have the required skills, or, hell, you could get rejected all together. Sadly, I saw that happen to a couple of people already, but they were never told they were rejected though, they just got sent away to be something called a "simulation trooper". I don't think I was supposed to hear about any of that until after training though, I just kinda overheard some of our commanders talking about it. Not my fault at all, they shouldn't have been talking out in the open like that!

So, Freelancers are, like, the best of the best, the top agents or mercenaries, I guess you could say, and they are named after the 50 states of America and, from what I heard, they get to work up close and personal with the Director of all these operations.

My brother had gone through the training to become a Freelancer, but he didn't make it through training, so now, like I've mentioned before, he is a guard on the ship. According to him it's "the most boring goddamn job ever". He's always complaining, like, "All I ever do is stand around guarding doors, nothing ever happens, no action, nothin'! Some of the other soldiers get to guard way more important stuff, but me? Nah, I get to guard doors!" I sincerely hope I don't end up on guard duty, and if I do I pray I'm not put on the same shift as him.

Anyway, this was the final day of my first week of training. It was a _very_ long day. We had been practicing with paint rounds and let me tell you, it was god awful, those paint balls hurt like a bitch! Not only do they hurt, but if you get hit they lock up your armor and you get frozen in place. My squad did really well considering all that, but, sadly we had only beat the opposing squad by one point. I have also been doing fairly well, if I do say so myself. I mean, I haven't been shipped off as one of those "simulation troopers" yet, so I think that's a good sign.

As of now I only have two weeks left of training and hopefully in that time I'll be able to prove that I have what it takes to be one of the Freelancers. Or, you know, things could go horribly wrong and I loose my only chance at this.

I turn onto my side and look at my team-mates who were now all settling down in their bunks for the night. They had saved my ass a lot during today's training, don't get me wrong, I had their backs too, but I would thank them later for that later.

I brushed some of the black hair from my face, snuggled into the blankets and closed my eyes. If I had thought today was long I could only imagine what tomorrow would bring. I slowly drifted into a light, dreamless sleep.

**Alright! This is actually my first story for this site. Reviews are very much appreciated. I plan on trying (keyword: try) to update every week.**

**Oh also I never really made it clear, but my OC is a girl.**

**Let me know what you guys think so far, okay? Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke to the sound of an alarm going off. I had gotten used to it by now as this was the signal for everyone to wake up, suit up, and report to the court-yard. Although I was used to it, it was still very obnoxious alarm.

I guess I never mentioned this before, but we all have been stationed in a training facility for nine days, the first two days we didn't train, but got assigned to our teams and fitted into our armor. Nothing really too interesting to talk about.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pulled the plain white covers from my body. I shivered from the slight cold of the room. I stared longingly at the warm fluffy blankets before letting out a defeated sigh, getting to my feet. My team mates all seemed to mirror how I felt as they slowly dragged themselves from the comfort of their beds. The only one who seemed real eager to get up this early for training was the only other girl on the team. She was cute redhead, to say the least, with wide blue eyes and a large grin on her face all the time, "Come on you guys! Wakey, wakey! We need to go to the locker room and head out, come on!" I groaned, she did this every morning to get us pumped for the day, but it never really works.

My team consists of three other people, two male one female. The first guy is tall and lanky with a shaved head and sharp brown eyes. The second guy was only a few inches taller then me, I'm 5"5, but he's really bulky, and he has slicked back blonde hair and hazel eyes. We've already talked about the redhead, so I'll just give you a quick description of myself while I'm at it, I'm a little on the short side with black hair and dark green eyes. Boom, that's it, go home.

I grabbed a hair-tie resting on my nightstand and pulled my hair back as we all made our way into the hallway. The hallways were crowded, they were every morning as everyone lumbered out of their chambers to go to the locker room, but I guess it wasn't too crowded as there were only about fifty people in the facility.

I hugged my arms close to my chest as we entered the locker room, it was always freezing in here no matter how hot or cold it was outside. Males and Females got dressed together, we're all adults here, so it's not really too weird. I broke away from my squad to find my locker, it wasn't to hard as I remembered the location of it and since it was labeled in ABC order by last name.

I opened the locker labeled "Baldum" and stripped down to my underwear grabbing my dark red armor and suited up. After making sure everything was in check I grabbed my helmet from the locker taking a moment to wipe away smudges from it's visor before pulling it down over my head.

From what I've been told Freelancers get special armor enhancements, not quite sure what they are as I've never seen one in action, but I heard rumors. Those of us in training don't get those for obvious reasons, no need to waste all that expensive equipment on us. And I'll admit, I'm a little jealous...maybe not a little, a lot, but I can't fight perfectly fine without it. Anyone that tells you otherwise is a dirty liar. No one told you that, right?

Once ready I met back up with my team outside the locker room. All of our armor were different colors probably so we could distinguish who was who. The redhead wore orange armor, the tall guy wore green, and the blonde wore yellow.

Oh, hey get this; after digging through my memories I managed to remember my team-mates names. Probably should have mentioned this before, but I didn't. Whoops must have slipped my mind, as do most things. Claire is the redhead, still can't remember her last name, but apparently from what I remember it doesn't matter as she doesn't like being called by her last name. Tall guy is Summers, and blondie is Roman. So...memory is the key or what? Eh? Eh?

Moving on. I push away my silly distracting thoughts as we made our way out to the court-yard. Five squads, after doing some quick math I realized that is twenty people, were already out there getting orders from our commanders in what they would train in for the day.  
Eager-McBeaver-Claire rushes out ahead to the commander, leaving us to jog to keep up with her. She also always did this, it used to be annoying, but being with her for a week changed that, it became a normal routine, like, 'Oh Claire is running ahead again, oh well let's just go catch up.' No one actually says that, but whatever.

Escaping the mass of tangled cords which is my thoughts we jogged up to the commander that Claire was talking to, "Your team will be stationed in the paint room for the day," Even with her helmet on I knew she was excited, the paint was her favorite for whatever reason.

My heart sank, "Again?" I stepped forward, "We were just in there yesterday, sir," I could feel my teams eyes land on me as soon as I spoke. I could tell they were a little surprised and I couldn't blame them, I didn't really talk or even question authority for that matter. The commander narrowed his eyes, "I just think that we should be training in hand to hand combat. We've been training more in paint more then we have in anything else."

"You're not the one givin' orders here, Private. Now get in there, or are you not cut out for this? Should I just ship you back to mommy and daddy?" he snarled down at me.

"No sir." I growled at him before angrily turning on my heel and walking into the training room. I wasn't going to mess this up. I couldn't. I wasn't going to loose my only chance at becoming a Freelancer just because I didn't want to get hit with paint balls. Man up, Baldum. It's time to get serious.


End file.
